Send Me an Angel
by Shadokat771
Summary: ONE SHOT. No Flames, Please! After a trying hunt, Sam and Dean find help from an unexpected source...Somewhere in Season 4, but before "Sex and Violence". Eric Kripke and the CW own the Winchesters, I just own the angel...


Send Me an Angel

The black classic car sped through the night along the deserted highway. The two occupants didn't take the time to notice that they were surrounded by dense forest, although the scent was streaming from the open air vents. Neither man spoke, being at the moment more concerned with their own thoughts and pains. Being brothers, they really didn't need to break the silence, anyway. Both were on the high end of their twenties, and good-looking, despite the fact that, at the moment, both were badly bruised in various places and several cuts and scratches still bled.

"We really should find someplace to stop", the passenger finally said quietly. He was the taller and lankier of the two brothers, although he was the younger.

"I figured that, Einstein", his brother replied with an edge of sarcasm in his voice. "I just wanted to put as many miles between us and that town as we could first". He shifted his seat as he drove, trying to stretch without losing his grip to find a more comfortable position. It wasn't working very well. He glanced over at his brother and saw that he was trying to staunch a split lip with a paper napkin found somewhere in the car. His expression softened a little. Sam had taken the brunt of this fight, covering for him. "I haven't seen any motels along the way, have you?" He asked.

Sam started to shake his head negatively, wincing from the effort. "This stretch of the 101 doesn't have much to offer, just some camping areas in the parks. And I haven't seen any signs for those yet".

The brothers exchanged a look that said they would rather spend what was left of the night in a warm, dry motel room than trying to patch themselves up in a tent or the back of the Impala. But they would do what needed to be done.

"There's a rest stop about a mile up ahead", Sam said, pointing to a sign as they passed.

There were no other cars in the parking lot of the rest stop, and for that, the brothers were grateful. They didn't want to have to try and explain their condition to any strangers, especially at this time of the night, or morning. They ignored the sign that said "no overnight camping", knowing they could sleep in shifts to keep an eye out for the highway patrol. They got out of the car at the same time, each trying to stretch without causing themselves any more pain than they already felt. It helped, but not enough. The scent of spruce trees and salt filled their lungs as they took deep breaths of the cold night air, letting them out in an escape of steam.

Sam started to walk towards the brightly lit restroom, but stopped a short distance away, listening. "Do you hear that?" He asked his brother in a low voice.

Dean listened for a moment, and then nodded. "Yeah, I do", he replied in kind. He pointed towards the picnic area farther into the forest. "Coming from that direction". He did a quick scan of the parking lot. "There's no other cars here", he said." Who would be out in the middle of the woods…_singing,_ at this time of night?"

Sam shrugged and tried to shake his head again, but stopped. Both men were instantly on the alert, all pain and weariness shoved to the back of their consciousness for now. They began slowly walking in the direction of the sound, wary of what lay in wait ahead of them.

Several yards in, they noticed that some of their weariness and pain were subsiding. Dean stopped suddenly, sniffing the air. "This is nuts", he whispered, looking around. "There are no rose bushes out here in the middle of nowhere".

Sam was able to nod this time. "I smell them, too". He was still listening.

They could tell by now that the sound they were hearing was indeed someone singing in a clear voice. They were still too far away to catch all the words, but through the trees they thought they heard:

_Memory seeps from my veins_

_Let me be empty_

_And weightless and maybe_

_I'll find some peace tonight_

It was a woman's voice they heard, but unlike any woman they had ever heard before. It was a soothing, uplifting sound, drawing them closer almost despite themselves.

"You don't think she's a siren, do you? Sam whispered.

"I didn't hear any police cars", Dean replied.

His brother resisted a smart retort. "No, I mean one of those mythological women who lure sailors to their deaths with their singing".

Dean shook his head. "I don't think they exist", he said, then grinned. "Besides, we're not that close to the ocean". His smile faded. "Still, whatever she is, she sings…."

"Like an angel", Sam finished for him.

A few more yards and they could see her through the trees, seated on a rock near a creek. She was facing in their direction, her long blond hair falling well past her shoulders. She was dressed in jeans and a white shirt with an embroidered vest over the top, and her feet were in a pair of moccasin boots. She looked just as beautiful as she sounded.

_You are pulled from the wreckage_

_Of your silent reverie_

_You're in the arms of the angel_

_May you find some comfort here_

Her voice trailed off and she looked at the brothers, her smile washing over them like a warm wave. "About time you showed up", she said. "I was trying to think of another song to sing while I was waiting."

"You've been waiting for us?" Dean asked.

She nodded, still smiling. "Yes, Dean"', she replied, "I have. I knew you'd be here at some point".

"How did you know we were going to be_ here_?" Sam asked.

She turned her gaze on the taller brother, still smiling. "This is the only rest stop for almost a hundred miles", she answered, "and there aren't any motels nearby". Her smile faded to a look of compassion. "I knew you two had to stop at some point, considering…." Her voice trailed off.

The brothers shuddered involuntarily at the thought of their last fight. "Ok", Dean said warily, "just who _are _you?"

Her smile returned, and they saw an impish twinkle come into her eyes, which they suddenly realized were teal colored, like the ocean. "I think you two have already guessed that", she replied. She glanced toward the starlit sky. "I'm one of the good guys", she looked down at herself, "rather, good girls".

"An angel?"

"Yes", she answered, still smiling.

"Then why didn't you pop in and give us some backup back there?"Dean was starting to get angry. "We sure could have used it".

She shook her head sadly, golden waves of hair swishing. "That's not part of my job description", she said. Before they could say anything more, she continued. "It's like this. The angels you've met, they're the warriors. I'm not a warrior". She paused a moment. "In an army, you have those that fight and those who stay behind the front lines and heal the wounded".

"So, you're a healing angel?" Sam was beginning to catch on.

Dean's anger evaporated. "Well, in _that _case…." He began with a smile.

The angel laughed a musical sound that warmed them. "Yes", she said, "I can heal some of your wounds". She grew serious. "Some, but not all".

"Why not all?"

"Because some wounds are meant to teach", the angel replied. "To remind those of things they have done, mistakes they have made".

Dean winced involuntarily.

"I know", she said softly, fixing him with her teal gaze. She held it for a moment, and then released him, smiling gently. "I'm sure you two would much rather be spending the night someplace warm", she looked up at the sky and watched clouds forming above them, "and it will be raining here soon". She studied their faces for a moment. "You're still not sure about me, are you?" She asked, still smiling. "That's good. You should always test".

"So, whose side are you on?" Dean asked.

"Light and Good", she answered solemnly. "I serve _Christos_", she said. _"Gloria_ _Domini Padre, Filio et_ _Spiritus Sanctus_. I go where I am sent and needed".

That made the brothers stop think a moment. The needing they could understand, but…_sending_?

"What's your name?" Sam asked. Her voice was so clear and warm; he wanted her to keep talking just so he could listen.

Her smile grew warmer and it seemed to them that a faint shimmer surrounded her. "Call me Rosalie", she replied. "I'm afraid you couldn't pronounce it otherwise". She unfolded herself and stood before them.

Sam realized with a start that she was tiny compared to his height. She barely came up to his chest.

As if she read his thoughts, Rosalie said, "you of all people, Sam, should know better than to judge power by size". She smiled at his blush. "Come. That rain is getting closer, and your wounds need tending".

"Where can we go?" Dean asked. "There aren't any motels nearby, and I didn't see any houses, either".

Rosalie clucked her tongue."I didn't say anything about farm houses or motels", she said. "There's a good cabin not far from here. I will show you".

The brothers hesitated.

Rosalie's laugh was light. "It's alright", she said. "They won't even know we were there".

They reached the deserted cabin just as a hard rain began to fall. Inside were two beds, a table with four chairs, a kitchenette and a small bathroom. The room was meant to be heated with a small wood stove. Although there were no signs of anyone being there recently, it was clean and dry, and the wood box was full of freshly cut wood and kindling.

Rosalie glanced around the room as they walked in, making sure all was well. She looked back at the two brothers as they entered behind her and felt her compassion swell. She knew if she hadn't been there, they wouldn't have had the strength to make it this far to safety. And here, she knew they would be safe. "Gentlemen", she said gently, "sit down before you fall down". She smiled when they blinked at her calling them 'gentlemen' before they each took a chair and sat down at the table. She then turned her attention to the stove and a short while later a fire was blazing, adding its heat to the room. That accomplished, she stood and looked at the brothers. Her expression turned soft and full of compassion. She felt honored to have been chosen to tend to two such noble souls, and sensing the physical and emotional pain within them nearly brought her to tears. She took a breath to clear her mind, and then moved towards Dean. "You first", she said.

"No, help Sam", Dean protested, trying to pull away. "He's hurt worse than I am".

Rosalie shook her head. "Trust me", she said.

The older Winchester brother cocked a wry smile. "Famous last words", he said.

She chuckled, reaching a hand towards him, stopping just inches from the bruise on his cheek."Hush", she said, "and let me try and get through this without crying… or laughing". Her hand began to float over his wounds, and she felt him start to relax. "That's better", she said softly, and her hand began to glow with a light from within.

Sam watched in rapt fascination as the angel ministered to his brother. Under her near touch, bruises faded, cuts closed without scars and scrapes disappeared. And he didn't think he had ever seen his brother so relaxed. The air within the cabin was warm and comforting, with the scent of roses mingled with spruce, pine and rain.

A few moments later, she was finished. She straightened and pointed towards one of the beds. "Go lie down", she said in a soft, yet commanding voice. "You need to sleep now".

Dean hesitated. Sleep was not one of his favorite things to do these days, or nights. He looked up at Rosalie, his eyes questioning.

Rosalie nodded, smiling gently. "Go on", she said, nodding. "You'll be safe. I can help".

Dean shrugged, then got up and walked to the bed, but he turned back to face Rosalie, his expression still questioning.

"I promise you," Rosalie assured him, "you'll be safe". She watched as he lay down on the bed, then went and knelt by his side. "Close your eyes", she said softly, watching the hunter's eyes close. "No nightmares, nothing can harm you here". She lightly touched two fingers to the middle of his forehead. "Sleep. Sleep deeply and rest well". She smiled as she watched his breathing become slow and rhythmic, knowing that he was in a deep untroubled sleep. She stood up and looked back at Sam, still smiling. "Your turn", she said quietly.

Sam swallowed involuntarily. "I don't know if you can help me", he said. "I'm not…not quite like my brother".

A puzzled expression clouded her features for a moment, and then cleared. "Fear not", she said. "I know what worries you, and I can work around it".

That surprised him. "You can?" He heard himself asking.

"Of course", she replied, smiling. "You weren't _born_ with demon blood in your veins; it was forced upon you when you were an infant. It's like you have a parasite within you". Her smile became sad. "I can't remove it, only the Father can. But there is always hope".

She reached out to him as she had Dean, and he could feel tingling warmth as she moved her hand above his wounds. His eyes closed involuntarily and his breathing became deep. The warmth enveloped him like a gentle, comforting blanket, and he felt like he wanted to stay in its embrace forever. "Gently," he heard her whisper, "gently. You're soaking it up too fast." He forced his breathing to slow and heard her murmur of approval.

He looked down at her attending a scratch on his arm, and he heard his voice say, "Who sent you?"

She looked back up at him, her eyes filled with compassion and concern, yet, there was a twinkle deep within them. "Do you _still _not know, Sam Winchester?" Her hand moved to lie just above his heart and stopped. "Search here", she said softly. "The answer has always been there".

Sam started to say something, but her expression had suddenly changed to one of alert wariness. At that same moment, he felt the presence of something evil approaching the cabin. Rosalie stood up in one fluid movement, whispering, "Say nothing, and don't move".

He watched her move to the center of the cabin and scan outside the windows quickly. She looked back at him and smiled, although the smile didn't reach her eyes. They seemed to glow with a fierce protectiveness. "Shield your eyes", she said. He obeyed, and squeezed his eyes shut as tight as they would go. He didn't need to be warned twice. He could now _feel _the heat radiating from her like a blast furnace and the light burned through his closed eyes. Throwing an arm in front of his face didn't help much. He could hear her voice speaking in a commanding tone of Latin or not Latin, he wasn't sure. Her pitch began to rise and he wasn't sure if he should be covering his eyes or his ears, as both were beginning to sear in pain.

A few moments later, it was over. She said in a quiet voice, "It is safe now. You can open your eyes". She watched him lower his arm and blink rapidly. "They were only lower demons", she explained, "sent to harass you in your pain". She saw his puzzled expression and smiled. "You're wondering how I could do what I just did if I'm a healing angel". At his nod, she continued, "the energy used to heal can be turned around and used to harm. I don't' do it often, and only with permission, to protect".

"I'm guessing you had permission, then", Sam replied with a wry smile.

Rosalie returned the smile. "Of course", she said. "You two are very important to us".

"Us?" He echoed.

"There are many of us who believe in you and your brother", she said earnestly. "Never forget that, Sam". She reached out towards him, beckoning him to the other bed. "You must rest now", she said softly. She smiled as she watched him rise and walk to the bed without any stiffness, then knelt beside him as he lay down on the bed. "Sleep", she whispered, "no nightmares, no bad memories, nothing will disturb you or cause you harm. Rest well".

Sam closed his eyes and found himself bracing for her touch that would send him under, yet it wasn't a touch on his forehead. He felt the softest lips touch his in a light kiss, a mother's kiss, a lover's kiss, sending him into an ocean of warmth and peace, and he fell into a deep slumber.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty".

Sam woke with a start at the sound of his brother's teasing voice, looking around. He was sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala; dawn's light just beginning to filter through the trees and bouncing off the metal roofs of the rest stop buildings. He blinked comprehension into his fuzzed mind. "What happened?" He asked

"You fell asleep on watch, that's what happened", Dean snapped, then stopped.

"What do you remember from last night?" Sam continued.

"Before or after we got our butts kicked?" His brother asked in return.

"After".

"We got out of town and", Dean paused. "We came here. There weren't any other cars here. You got out, and—"

"We heard singing", Sam finished for him, "and started smelling roses".

"Yeah", Dean nodded in agreement, "yeah". He looked at his younger brother in puzzlement. "How did you heal your split lip so fast?" He looked down at himself, and then added, "For that matter, how did you heal _me?"_

Sam grinned. "I didn't", he said, "Rosalie did".

"Rosalie?" He repeated, and then recognition swept across his face. "_Rosalie_. The angel".

At that moment, the scent of roses filled the car and the radio turned on by itself, the dial sliding wildly up and down the bandwidth. It stopped suddenly, and a woman's clear voice came through the speakers, singing:

_Take it easy, take it easy_

_Don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy_

_Lighten up while you still can_

_Just find a place to make your stand_

_And take it easy_

"The Eagles never sounded so good", Dean grinned as he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

The End


End file.
